Casino: The New Enforcer
by AngeloDaBull
Summary: Tony Spilotro is dead, and so is the mob influence in Las Vegas. But Chicago and New York mafia figures are trying to get back the gold mine in the desert. One problem, there's a new enforcer in Nevada.


Casino: The New Enforcer  
  
The hit True Crime Movie "Casino" is the focus of my story. All the names in my book are the real names of the real people depicted in "Casino." If you haven't seen the movie Casino, shame on you. Here the story of Angelo Bonelli, a crew boss of the Chicago mob who tries to take back Vegas after Tony Spilotro (played by Joe Pesci in the movie Casino) fucked it all up.  
  
Narrator: The year is 2001, and the Italian mafia is no longer  
a public force, but a Hollywood tool to make money of the silver  
screen. Or so we think...  
  
(A stout man walks into a semi-crowded diner. He is wearing a gray shirt with a leather jacket with suede boots. He looks around until he finds who he is looking for. He sits down next to a man wearing a suit with a bulge on the left side of his body. He smiles, orders coffee and sits down)  
  
Russo: I thought you'd never show up Angie.  
  
Angelo: Neither did I, so, what do you want?  
  
(Russo takes a deep breath and now beings to look nervous)  
  
Russo: I did my part Goddamnit now you do yours!  
  
Angelo: Whatever do you mean?  
  
Russo: Fuck you, Angelo!  
  
(The entire diner then turns and looks confused at the 2 men, Russo calms down and begins another tirade)  
  
Russo: I know what you're going to say, you're going to  
say, 'Hey Tony, get your boys in the D.C. to back you up.'  
  
Angelo: Listen Anthony, I came here because you told me to,  
and I owed you a favor. You saved my neck and I gave you what  
you wanted, I gave you my retirement. But instead of helping me  
out, you leave my brother hanging out to dry and he gets 1,000  
years in Marion just like that Neapolitan fuck John Gotti. You  
think your people are ever going to understand people like me?  
Or the people that really run this fuckin' country?!  
  
(Angelo stiffens up)  
  
Angelo: The only people you could ever turn were people with  
no parameters. Sammy "The Bull," Johnny Timberelli, Frankie  
Piscano, all fuckin' hypocrites with no loyalty. They didn't  
help anything; they just made it easier for people like me to  
become like Joe Batters. You think he's suffering? He's out in  
Palm Springs enjoying the good life thanks to you. You couldn't  
nail him. You fuckin' people couldn't even get Tony 'The Ant'  
and they humiliated you. They make movies about fucks like  
Spilotro!  
  
20 YEARS EALIER  
CHICAGO, IL  
  
(The scene then flashes back to 1983 in Joe Batters' home  
(Angelo is having a meeting with the former boss of the Chicago  
Mob, Tony 'Joe Batters' Accardo.)  
  
Joe B: Angie, what is going on down there? I just talk to  
Frank Marino, and thinks are getting very fucked up down there.  
  
Angelo: You know me Joe, I never liked Spilotro or his crew  
from the beginning. Bunch of fuckin' tuned out coke heads. Deal  
and die, only problem is they ain't dead yet.  
  
Joe B: Yet.  
  
(The scene cuts back to the diner)  
  
Russo: We have rules, we have a procedure, and you think I  
didn't want to nail Spilotro?! Do you know how many people  
suffered because of him?! The .22 caliber killer got his in the  
fuckin' sticks along with his desperado brother. You forget  
that part of the movie?  
  
(Angelo grins from ear to ear takes a sip of coffee. He orders  
breakfast then stares down Russo)  
  
Angelo: This is why you dragged me down to Melrose Park, to  
talk to me about a fuckin' movie?  
  
Russo: No Angie, I wanted to warn you about those Dagos in  
New York. If you don't want to hear it you can drag your ass  
back to your River Front mansion and play golf with Joe Batters'  
niece while you've got your hand in her goonia.  
  
Angelo: You motherfucker, who told you?  
  
Russo: I have my sources.  
  
Angelo: So, what about those fuckin' Reicher's Island Rats?  
  
Russo: Let's just say that they want to play a game with  
you, and it ain't twister.  
  
(Angelo sits back in his chair with an upset look on his face)  
  
Angelo: They want another war; we'll give them another  
fuckin' war. I'm out of the fuckin' game but they know that Joe  
Batters' replacement has been waiting for me with open arms for  
the last seven years.  
  
Russo: So tell me Angie, if you guys already claimed Vegas,  
marked your territory and fucked it all up, why should you be  
mad if they want to try and get a good hand in Sin City?  
  
Angelo: You just don't get it Tony; we had the land from the  
get-go. They got roach-infested Atlantic City and we got the  
gold mine in the desert. We already got the land but those  
fucks just didn't get it. Alphonse (Capone) sent Joe Batters  
and his buddy and they ended the war between Chicago and New  
York. We had won! Nobody ever fuckin' messed with Chi-Town  
again and it was a glorious time. Then that miserable fuck Tony  
Spilotro destroys the empire form inside out, with no help from  
the Jew fuck, Lefty Rosenthal.  
  
(Angelo stares at the table, then looks at Russo's bulging badge  
and gun frowns)  
  
Angelo: Joe Batters is a smarter man than Capone, but no one  
will ever match his way of business. That's all he was, a  
business man. Batters is the toughest man in the world but  
Phonzi was the fuckin' man. He came back humble after his trip  
to Alcatraz, but that scumbag Johnny Boy (Gotti) thought he  
could fuck the system and get away with it and rub it in their  
face. Well he got sent to Marion, and now he's dead. And so  
will his underboss Gravano. These fuckin' Noo Yuck rats never  
seem to get it. All they do is get rich, sling dope, beat the  
system, only to get fucked by their own crew. But I guess it  
works both ways. You see Chicago has always been the toughest  
town in the country, and if those guys want Vegas, they'll have  
to come to Chicago and knock us out of the box first. They  
couldn't do it when it was five families on one and they won't  
do it. No fuckin' way. Over my dead fat ass. What I want to  
know is who their first target is.  
  
Russo: That's why I'm here, and that's why I'm recording  
this conversation. I have a legal and moral obligation to  
inform you that John Gotti, Jr. is cutting his teeth with the  
Cosa Nostra New York.  
  
Angelo: That son of a bitch is in jail until next November  
why the fuck should I be worried about him?!  
  
Russo: His first target it you. They don't want to risk  
having you back in Vegas just when they are trying to get in  
themselves. Watch out Angie, thinks could get ugly in the city  
of the big shoulder.  
  
(The scene cuts to FBI surveillance of Charlie Wags, a former  
soldier of the Gambino crew  
from Queens. Tony Russo is in a car across the street from  
Charlie's house with John  
Monteleone, a former soldier under Batters in the Chicago mob.  
They observe Charlie leaving his  
home and getting into his car as he begins to start his car)  
  
Russo: I told Angelo Bonelli that Wags is about to be sent  
to Chicago to kill him from an order from the new Don, John  
Gotti, Jr. Our job is to make sure he doesn't.  
  
Monteleone: So you're saying that the FBI wants me to clip Wags  
before he clips Angie? I didn't sign up for this Russo. I've  
been clean since '90 and I don't want to go back to jail. Joe  
B's boys are waiting for me to screw up just so they can clip me  
in front of the world like Jimmy Hoffa.  
  
Russo: No one's gunna get clipped, you worry too much  
Johnny.  
  
Monteleone: How do you want me to clip this guy?  
  
Russo: He's going to Luchese's place to play poker. Before  
he walks in, shoot in him the brain stem and leave him in front  
of the bar for everyone to see. We want this to look like a mob  
hit.  
  
(A loud explosion rings out through the neighborhood at Wags'  
Cadillac is cremated into the sky)  
  
Monteleone: Now that looks like a mob hit...  
  
(Scene cuts away as the ball of fire spreads to Wags' house)  
  
(Angelo is the focus of the next scene, he sits down on his  
chair and watches the Cubs game)  
  
Angelo: 95 fuckin' years and still no fuckin' title. Why  
can't we get a fucking guy in there to.  
  
(His daily tirade about Chicago baseball is interrupted by the  
door bell. He walks to the door  
carrying a .45)  
  
Angelo: Who is it?  
  
Man at door: I'm not here to kill you Angelo. Why don't you  
open the door and have a chat with me.  
  
(Angelo opens the door and sees John Gotti, Jr. much to his  
surprise)  
  
Angelo: Look who it is, Teflon Jr., how bout 'dem Yankees?  
Getting spanked every year while their pumping $170 million on  
pretty boy nigger fucks like Derek Jeter.  
Junior: Enough about baseball Angie, I need to speak with  
you.  
  
Angelo: What the fuck do you want from me?  
  
Junior: Why did you kill Charlie Wags?  
  
Angelo: Get the fuck outta here with that shit! I didn't  
order a whack on your boy Wags nor do I even associate myself  
with those boys. I gave it up, you know that Junior, so why the  
fuck would you even question me?!  
  
Junior: Then tell me what Tony Russo told you in that diner  
that one night. He told you we were after you but it was a  
fuckin' lie. So you got scared and you whacked a made guy on my  
crew and for that you should fuckin' die you fuckin' coward!  
  
(Angelo raises his gun to Junior's head and pulls the trigger.  
The gun clicks as nothing happens  
and Junior is left confused and trembling)  
  
Angelo: Next time Junior, the chamber won't be empty.  
  
Junior: Alright Angelo, I'll take that. Because I didn't  
come here to fight. Believe it or not it was your own boys who  
are trying to clip you. You might have kept their secrets so  
far, but you still know them. And Joe Batters is getting his  
balls busted about his parole and about his kid slinging dope.  
He doesn't want anybody making any waves for him and doesn't  
want you back in Vegas. I came here with a proposition. I want  
you to work with me; I want you in Vegas working with the  
Gambinos.  
  
Angelo: Excuse me?!  
  
Junior: I know it's not what you always dreamed of, and I  
know you hate my guts and all of our boys. But we respect you,  
and it would be an honor to have you with the Gambinos in Vegas.  
  
Angelo: Get the fuck outta here Junior, the fuckin' bullet's  
in the chamber and it's got your name on it.  
  
Junior: I'll give you some time to think about your options  
Angie. You can either stay here and get clipped by your old  
crew, or you can come to Vegas with me and be safe from all  
those Polish sausage eating fucks. Call me when you make your  
decision.  
  
(Angelo sits back in his chair and takes a deep breath. He  
ponders his options while petting his  
golden retriever)  
  
Angelo: What the fuck is going on? The highest ranking  
organized crime FBI agent comes to see me and tells me that New  
York is out to get me. Then New York tells me that Chicago is  
out to get me. Wags gets whacked who was supposedly going to  
clip me, and now it's my fault. I don't know Sammy, looks like  
shit is going down in the desert. Either way, I'm now safe here  
either. I might as well find my way back to the desert, but not  
Vegas. Naw. to high profile, I need a little place to skim and  
maybe I can find out if anybody is trying to kill me. I can  
still make money for people here out west. Fuck. I need a crew,  
quick. 


End file.
